


Is This What You Wanted

by writerllofllworlds



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Angst and Feels, Character Death, Death, F/M, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, I'm Sorry, Just angst, Kidnapping, Not Avengers: Endgame (Movie) Compliant, POV Tony Stark, Pain, Peter Parker Feels, Peter Parker Whump, Peter Parker is a Little Shit, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Precious Peter Parker, Protective Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark, Sad, Sad Ending, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, no beta we die like men, one bullet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:15:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24515986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerllofllworlds/pseuds/writerllofllworlds
Summary: “Take care of yourself,” Tony ordered gently. “We both know you aren’t good at that, and I’m not going to be around to love you enough for the both of us, okay? You have to promise you’ll take care of yourself.”Peter sobbed. “I promise.”“I love you,” The hero breathed, honest and genuine. A peaceful smile slipped across his lips. “I love you so fucking much, Peter Parker.”The boy threw himself into Tony’s arms. His entire body shook, but Tony didn’t mind. This was his son. He hadn’t been able to hold him all those years go, but he was able to hold him now.One last time.
Relationships: Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Tony Stark
Comments: 39
Kudos: 105





	Is This What You Wanted

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry. I wrote this in less than two hours and it is hot garbage. Enjoy.
> 
> I don't own Marvel. I just have a lot of feelings and am a slut for Irondad. I know I literally posted just yesterday after being absent for like three months. My b. 
> 
> As always, please comment if you liked it! Love ya'll.

They had been kidnapped. It wasn’t the first time. Tony was sure it also wouldn’t be the last. He even had the energy to laugh when Peter woke up, gave the concrete room a sweeping glare, and groaned out, “Are you fucking kidding me?”

It was funny. It should not have been funny. 

Tony struggled to sit up. Pepper’s head was on his shoulder, but she too was beginning to escape the bonds of drug-induced slumber. “Honey?”

Tony leaned down and kissed her strawberry blonde hair. “Right here, my lovely wife. Pete’s here too, in case you weren’t privy to the horrible language he just uttered. Do you kiss your mother with that mouth, young man?”

Peter snorted, dark sense of humor rivaling his mentor’s. “Bold of you to assume I have a mother.”

The two geniuses (see also: idiots) started cackling and Pepper rolled her eyes. “You two are ridiculous.” 

“And yet you agreed to marry me.” the billionaire wiggled his eyebrows. His beautiful partner slapped his shoulder. 

“I’m just here because of the free food,” Peter chimed in. He got to his feet, immediately beginning to circle their new abode. He rolled his shoulders back and ran his hand over the walls. There was no door, no vents leading to a quick and easy escape for a certain spider. Nevertheless, he attached himself to the surface and began to climb.

“Um, Pete-,” Tony started, ready to go on a rant about keeping secret identities and all that jazz, but his protege interrupted.

“They know I’m Spiderman,” he explained, scaling the wall with ease. He scoured every inch of the barricades surrounding them and the ceiling above. There was nothing but concrete and hot red lights. “I can still feel the drugs they gave me. High levels of Temazepam and Hallucinogens, I think. Maybe some depressants.”

It was very alarming that Peter could tell the different types of drugs they had used on him. 

“You know all that?” Pepper tilted her head at the enhanced boy as he circled the ceiling. 

“After the fourth kidnapping, I started tasting a trend.”

“Unsettling is way too subdued of a word to describe everything you just said,” Tony swallowed down the questions warring to explode from his mouth. Peter had been kidnapped at least four times. He personally only knew of two - instances he had been a part of. The idea that his kid had also been taken at least two other times was very, very disturbing. “Anything else you haven’t told me, Underoos?”

“Um, GHB tastes salty,” Peter shrugged, descending the opposite wall from where the two Starks were sitting. 

Pepper choked. “Why the  _ hell  _ do you know what GHB tastes like?”

The seventeen-year-old dropped to the floor. He immediately began to inspect it as well. He waved away their concern and answered evenly, “You know that gala you made me go to in November?”

“Yes.” the couple replied in unison. 

“One of Osborn’s guys gave me a drink with it mixed in. Went through my system like it was nothing. I had no idea it was there until I patrolled that night and Karen went ballistic.” he knelt to inspect a corner of their chamber. “She kept asking if I’d been “taken advantage of”, which is really funny because if I can’t handle the word “rape” then I definitely should not have survived the actual act, you know what I mean? Not that Karen knew I’d been raped. This is confusing you, I can tell. Both your heartbeats are going crazy over there. Calm down; the Osborn guy didn’t touch me.”

Tony was very upset, mildly putting it. He only had to glance to his left to see that Pepper had a similar expression tattooed across her face. Peter had just word gushed the fact that not only had he been given a rape drug at one of his own parties, but also that he had been raped previously. 

God, kidnapping really did bring out things, didn’t it?

“There is so much inside me that wants to tackle every single word you just said,” Tony forced himself to his feet and stalked over to his kid. “But I think that we’ll save that horribly sobering conversation for somewhere a little nicer.” 

To settle, he grabbed Peter’s shoulders and crushed the boy against his chest. “You know I love you, right?” 

The teenager chuckled sadly. “I love you too, Tony.”

That hadn’t answered his question. “I really do.” 

“Thanks.” 

“Hey, look at me,” Tony forced his chin up so that they were holding each other’s gaze. It was so odd to have such a heart-to-heart in the middle of their cell, but he supposed dire situations brought out the softie in him. “You don’t need to thank me. It’s my pleasure.”

Peter’s eyes narrowed. “Are you two planning on killing me or something? You’re not usually this nice.” 

Tony huffed. “What, I can’t tell my kid I love him?”

“Not unless you want something from me.” 

“Ha ha.” 

Pepper snorted. “I said it before, but I think it needs repeating - you two are ridiculous.” 

“Thank you,” the acknowledged in sync. This prompted three laughs to ring out. Their captors probably thought they were all insane. 

Suddenly, the ceiling opened up and a gun fell to the floor between the trio. The laughter died immediately. Tony’s gut churned. A voice crackled into the silence that had fallen around them. It was dry and dark, definitely not friendly.

“Good evening, Mr. Stark, Mrs. Stark. Peter.” 

Tony did not like the way that they said Peter’s name. Peter, however, in true Spiderman fashion, immediately pulled out his signature quippy tone and shot back, “Do you wish me a good evening, or mean that it is a good evening whether I want it or not; or that you feel good on this particular evening; or that it is an evening to be good on?”

Pepper pinched the bridge of her nose. “Peter, we’ve been over this. Don’t quote  _ Lord of the Rings _ to the villains. Most of them aren’t smart enough to have read it.” 

“But it’s so fun.” he drew out the last word like a child, and Tony supposed he was allowed to act a little bratty right now. Kidnapping could bring out the worst in people. If this was his son’s worst - sassy lines and disrespectful head tilts - well, the world would somehow survive. “Besides, I feel like we’re talking to a man of literature. He has the voice of an old British professor who narrates all the classics we teenagers go to Sparknotes for.” 

“You are very talkative, aren’t you little spider?” the voice continued, sly and smirking. Tony could imagine this person being a snake. “You weren’t so chatty when my men found you in that alley. What happened there, Peter? Cat got your tongue?” 

Alley? Tony’s brow furrowed. Oh. Peter hadn’t been with them when they’d been taken. He had been on his way to the Tower from patrol. Pepper and Tony had been on their first date in years because Rhodey had offered to watch Morgan. He suddenly became very aware of the bruises hiding underneath the sleeves of Peter’s t-shirt. Protective Dad Mode kicked into high gear and he growled. 

“Actually,” Peter smiled innocently. “It was a pigeon, and his name is Gregory. He hates cats.” 

“You are insufferable,” the villain drawled lazily. 

Pepper’s eyes had not left the gun between them. “I’ve been saying that for years and no one has listened to me.”

“What’s the gun for, sicko?” Tony was done playing games. He wanted out. He had been kidnapped for three months, and while he was grateful for the after-effects - his life and wife and found family, a legacy of heroes and world-saving - he did not want any more repetition. “Are we playing shoot the tail off the donkey?”

“Well,” the voice hummed. “That depends on who you all decide is the donkey.” 

Oh. 

So that was how this was going down. 

“Are you implying that one of us has to shoot one of the others?” Pepper squinted towards where the voice seemed to be coming from - the blaring red lights. 

“Not just shoot, dear Pepper,” he added cheerfully. Tony wanted to break both his legs. “Kill. There’s only one bullet in there, duckies, and only two of you will be leaving this cell.” 

“Can we shoot ourselves?” Peter’s joking facade had disappeared, replaced by the seasoned hero and soldier. The certainty in his eyes was depressing. Immediately, all Tony could see was Peter Parker on the ground at his feet, blood pooling out of his body, gun limp in his hand.

“You are  _ not  _ shooting yourself,” Tony snarled, gripping Peter’s arm and pulling him into his side. 

“No, no, dear Peter. That’s not allowed. If one of you chooses to shoot yourself, then I’ll kill the remaining two without hesitation. No, no. This has to be a conscious debate between the three of you. One of you is dying today, and it is going to be because the other pair decide to do it. There is no way out except for the button directly to my left, which opens the cell door. You have ten minutes to decide. I’m on a schedule.” 

Pepper gasped. “Ten  _ minutes _ ?”

“Fuck you.” Tony shouted. He picked up the weapon at his feet and aimed it at one of the lights. 

“Uh, uh, uh, Anthony. Pull that trigger and I put two directly into your wife’s skull.” 

His hand froze. Peter reached forward and took the gun from his hands. “Okay, okay. Ten minutes it is. You have a timer for us?” 

“I like your attitude, Peter,” Tony wanted to scream at the sadistic grin he was sure the villain was sporting. “Just because you’re so polite, yes. I’ll project your timer on the wall to your right. Anything else?”

Pepper swallowed. “Why are you doing this?” 

The voice chuckled ominously. “Oh, if you think that this is some revenge plot that I’ve been planning for years, then you would be horribly wrong. No, I’m not Justin Hammer or Loki or Quentin Beck. No, I’m doing this because it’s  _ fun _ .”

Tony choked. There was no point. There wasn’t a dead family or a shattered country. There was no tragic backstory. This was a man who was actually insane. There was no predicting with this kind of villain. They couldn’t bargain either. He wouldn’t care that they had a family waiting for them or that Peter had a few months until he graduated high school. They had no morals. 

They just killed. 

Because it was fun. 

“I like watching the grueling hour of debate. The one who automatically offers themselves,” Peter. “The one who tries to logic there way through it all,” Pepper. “And the one who ultimately gets the bullet,” Tony. “It’s always the same.” 

Tony had decided. There was no other answer. He was going to die today. He couldn’t ask Peter to do it. He would be shaking, he’d miss. They couldn’t’ risk that. 

Oh,  _ God _ . 

He was going to have to ask his wife to shoot him. The thought alone made him sick to his stomach. The shiver that ran down his spine made Pepper look at him, and she must have understood everything in that small moment where their eyes met. She had always been so good at that. He held her eyes, drinking in her beautiful gaze. He would hold it for as long as she let him. 

“Good luck, Starks. I’ll see two of you on the flip side.” the intercom switched off. Immediately, a timer was displayed on the way. 

10:00... 9:59... 9:58…

“Okay,” Peter was the first to speak. “Tony, I need you to take care of May for me. Happy’s planning on proposing to her in like, two weeks or something, and I think he’ll want you to be the best man, so I need you to threaten him with Hell if he doesn’t take care of my aunt. Um, erect a statue of Luke Skywalker in the middle of Central Park to honor my memory - it’s what I want. There’s a will in my desk drawer. It’s not much, but you’re in it, so give it a read. I put flowers on my mother’s grave every Mother’s Day and July seventeenth - that’s her birthday; If you could keep that up it would be-,” 

“Peter, if you think that I am about to aim that gun anywhere near you then you really are the stupidest kid I’ve ever met.” Tony turned to stare at him with tears in his eyes. Each new word that had fallen from the kid’s mouth had been softer, sadder, more accepting. That wouldn’t do. He had risked everything to get this boy back from the dead, and here he was talking like Tony had already agreed, already taken the gun from him. 

Peter sighed, tears glistening in his own chocolate gaze. “Tony, come on. I’m the obvious answer.” 

“The fuck you are!” 

9:03… 9:02… 9:01…

“Tony, think about it. I’m seventeen years old. I’ve had a good run, but let’s be honest, I’d probably die pretty soon anyway. If Spiderman doesn’t get me six feet under, student debt certainly will, and you have a family.” he gestured to Pepper. “You have an amazing wife and an amazing daughter. They need you - Morgan needs you. It  _ can’t  _ be you. You already almost died to save the universe. I’ll take this one.” 

“No, no way.” Tony stared at the weapon his kid was holding out to him. “You are out of your fucking mind, Parker. There is no reality where I could ever - how can you even  _ think  _ I would be able to look at you and pull the trigger?”

“It can’t be you and it can’t be Pepper!” Peter was crying now, the tears beginning to roll down his cheeks like rain. His hands shook. “So it has to be me!”

“Peter,” Pepper shook her head, stepping forward. “No. I’ll do it.” 

Tony wanted to sob. “ _ Fuck _ no, Pep. No. Nuh uh. No way.”

“Sorry, Ms. Potts, no go,” the seventeen-year-old choked, a horribly sad smile appearing on his busted lips. “I promised Morgan that I’d always protect you. What kind of brother would I be if I shot you?” 

“Tony,” his wife grabbed his shoulder. “You’re going to have to shoot me.” 

Why were they trying to tiptoe around the fact that he was the one who deserved to be shot? “Don’t you two get it? I’m the one that has to die!” 

“Bullshit.” the pair replied in unison. 

7:34… 7:33… 7:32…

“I don’t have as much, okay? It should be me!” Peter held the gun out with more conviction. “So just take it! I can’t shoot myself so take it!”

Tony was furious. He was so angry. Why did his family always have to be the one that suffered? Why couldn’t he just have his wife and his daughter and this precious kid? Why couldn’t he just retire without getting kidnapped or tortured? Why couldn’t he be a hero without any bad things ever happening to him? He’d saved lives for fifteen years and this was how he got repaid?

“Pepper, take that gun and shoot me. You know where to aim.” 

His wife gave him one of the most incredulous looks yet. “Are you insane?”

“I know it’s hard,” Tony swallowed, the first tear escaping. It rolled down his skin like ice. He reached forward and grasped her hands between his. “But I can’t have the kid do it. Look at him, Pep. He’ll miss completely. You have to do it. Okay? This is what I want.”

She stared at him, years and years of love and adoration reflected in those blue hues. There was an eternity spoken between them, more decades of laughter and comfort, of soothing fears and dance parties at one in the morning. There were late breakfasts and early dinners, movie marathons, and yelling matches. He had thought he would be able to see her get grey, see her age lines multiply and still call her the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. 

“Morgan will be okay, Pep. She’ll have you.” 

His wife blinked twice, slowly. The timer went on. 6:45… 6:44… 6:43… He tightened his hold on her fingers. “I know it’s horrible, Pep. But I love you. I’ve loved you since the first day I met you and I’ve loved you a little more every single day since. You are my other half, my perfect pair. You complete me in every single way. But the kicker, the real kicker Pep, is that you made me a better person. Thank you. Thank you so much.”

She shook her head. “I can’t.” 

“Yes you can,” he nodded, not encouragingly, because how on earth could he nod encouragingly when he was asking his life partner to kill him? 

And Pepper Stark, the strongest woman he had ever met, gave him a single nod. Then she pulled him into the firmest hug, wrapped her arms around him like he was her lifeline. He held her, tried to memorize every curve of her skin, ever different scent that came from her hair, from her neck. He breathed in everything that was Pepper for one of the last times in his life and smiled. It would be okay. Pepper would make sure they were okay. 

He pulled away just enough so that he could smash his lips against hers. She sobbed against his mouth and he could taste the salt of her tears - both their tears. 

When they broke apart, he could swear that he had never seen her look more beautiful. She was crying, but those blue eyes were determined, purposeful, just like they always were. That was the woman he had fallen in love with. 

“No, no, no, no!” Peter’s sobs broke through their serene silence and Tony detached himself form his wife. He walked towards the trembling teen, hands outstretched in a silent plea. “No! No, you can’t!”

“Pete, buddy, listen.” 

“ _ NO _ ! You can’t do this to Morgan! You can’t make her live without you!” He stumbled back, further and further until there was nowhere left to go. It was just him and the wall. He was trapped. 

Tony was close enough now. He gently touched Peter’s chin. The boy shook his head, but Tony cupped his cheek like he used to cup Morgan’s when she was a baby; soft, caring, all of the love he could not contain spilling into his touch. Oh, this boy. What wouldn’t he do for this precious, extraordinary kid? “Hey, hey, look at me, Peter.” 

“Pepper, listen to me! You have to kill me! Shoot me,  _ please _ !” 

Behind him, his wife let out another choked sob, but he did not turn. The timer read 4:10. They did not have enough time. 

“Peter, you are one of the greatest things that has ever happened to me. No, don’t - don’t look at anything else. Look right at me, bud. Right here.” Those broken eyes finally met his and Tony could not help but smile. Even now, even like this, he was so proud. Of the boy that he was, of the man he was becoming. Of everything that Tony’s father had never felt for him. “What did I do to deserve you, Peter Parker?” 

“No,” Peter moaned. “I - it’s the other way around. I don’t deserve you. That why it should be me. Please, please let it be me.” 

“You know I can’t do that, buddy.” Tony’s left hand joined its brother on Peter’s cheeks. “You’re my kid.” 

He sobbed, familiar, and scared and horribly broken. Another father figure. He could see Peter mentally putting another on his unfortunately long list of fallen loved ones. 

“You’re my son, Peter.” 

Peter’s brown eyes stilled, just for a moment, and his sobs fell away as he breathed, “And you’re my  _ Dad _ .” 

Tony’s entire world exploded. Nothing mattered now. Not the gun, not his imminent death. Peter had called him Dad. 

His weak happy demeanor shattered and Tony let out a strained groan. “You were my first baby, okay? I love you so much, kiddo.” 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” 

“Hey, bubba, this isn’t your fault. None of this is your fault. None of them - not Mary and Richard, not Ben, not me. You’re perfect, Peter. You are the strongest, the kindest, the best person I’ve ever known and I know that someday when we see each other again - and we will. No, Peter,  _ listen to me _ .” because the kid had looked away again and Tony couldn’t let that slide. Not now. Not with only two minutes remaining. “When we see each other again, I know you’re going to have done so much good. You’re going to have saved the world over and over again. You’ll have cured cancer and gone to Jupiter and you’ll have taught Morgan how to fly. Oh, God, take care of her. Pete, take care of her for me.” 

And finally, finally, Peter nodded. “I promise.” 

“Take care of yourself,” Tony ordered gently. “We both know you aren’t good at that, and I’m not going to be around to love you enough for the both of us, okay? You have to promise you’ll take care of yourself.” 

Peter sobbed. “I promise.”

“I love you,” The hero breathed, honest and genuine. A peaceful smile slipped across his lips. “I love you so fucking much, Peter Parker.” 

The boy threw himself into Tony’s arms. His entire body shook, but Tony didn’t mind. This was his son. He hadn’t been able to hold him all those years go, but he was able to hold him now. 

One last time.

“I love you too.” Peter pledged. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Like he had with Pepper, Tony mastered every little detail. The slight curl of Peter’s hair, the freckles on his left cheekbone. The way he was so strong and so good at the same time. The amount of love that couldn’t possibly come from one body but  _ did _ . 

“Hey.” 

Peter burrowed deeper. He saw Pepper take the gun from the kid’s shaking hands with the stealth of a pro. Good. The further that thing was from Peter, the better. 

“I am so _proud_ of you.” 

Tony slowly pulled away. They were down to thirty seconds now. He turned slowly, facing his wife, the love of his life, the light of his world. “Tell Morgan I love her. Tell-,” his voice caught as his daughter’s sweet face crossed his eyelids. “Tell her Daddy loves her more than anything.” 

“I will,” Pepper whispered. 

Twenty seconds. 

Pepper raised the gun. Tears streamed down her face. Tony couldn’t look at Peter. He smiled at his wife and closed his eyes. 

He hoped he got to see his mom. 

The shot rang out. Tony’s eyes widened. There’s no pain, just silence. He stared into his wife’s beautiful gaze one last time and he smiled. It was okay. It would all be okay. It didn’t hurt, he was with two people he loved most in the entire world. In his final moments, he was happy. 

There was no pain. 

There was no  _ pain _ . 

There is a  _ thud  _ though. It’s not his body that falls to the floor. 

In slow motion, Tony turns. 

There is a hole in Peter’s chest, right where his heart is. Blood begins to trickle out slowly, drip drip drip, and it matched the red color under the boy’s unfocused eyes. 

The timer hits zero and the door behind Tony slides open. There are hands on his arms, pulling him away and into the light of evening. They’re pulling him away, away from his son. His son. That’s his son. There’s a bullet in his son!

Pulling, pulling, and Pepper is beside him, the gun no longer in her hands. She doesn’t meet his gaze. 

Reality is only just catching up with him. Tony gasps. 

They’re pulling and pulling and then suddenly Peter is  _ gone _ . 

But he hears a noise because a father’s ears are constantly listening for the sound of their child’s treasured voice, as he is being handed over into the familiar hold of Steve Rogers. A sound that shattered his soul, that broke every single rule in his head because it should not be possible or real or happening in any situation. 

From within the concrete prison, now being stormed by SHIELD agents and Avengers alike, a small voice called. 

“Dad?”

There is nothing. There is no miraculous recovery, Peter does not come jumping out of the door, healed and completely fine. He is carried by Bucky, broken and limp in the soldier’s hold. There is no breath, no laughter, and no calling of his father’s name.

There is nothing. 

This is not what he wanted. 

**Author's Note:**

> I am so sorry. 
> 
> I usually write happy endings. I wasn't feeling happy. So this is the result of that.


End file.
